


The Chase

by Blaiddyd_Queso



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Azure Moon Spoilers, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Further warnings at the start of the chapter, Out of Character, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Postpartum Depression, Romantic Comedy, Rough Sex, Survivor Guilt, Unplanned Pregnancy, morally gray characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22006516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaiddyd_Queso/pseuds/Blaiddyd_Queso
Summary: Re-Visualization of the Blue Lions Route.The Ashen Demon gave The One-Eyed Demon a reason to hold down to life; much like the prince gave his tactician a reason to stay in the present.The clock of Sothis never stops, decisions and consequences have to be dealt with eventually.His bottom lip trembles, "Why won't you love me..." A whimper as his tone falters, "enough to stay with me?"Can the newly appointed Archbishop truly stay with those she loves; reaping the fruits of their labor?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 42
Kudos: 266





	1. Pathway

**Author's Note:**

> Project request. Thank you so much!
> 
> [Thank you to MissM for the constant support.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMillennium)  
> \----

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bond comes to life.

* * *

Dimitri should have known that his steps would be tracked down by his once-beloved professor.

Byleth had always been keen to detect other people’s whereabouts; she had always been fast enough to encounter her target.

Seems the prince would have to deal with one last obstacle before finally marching towards Enbarr, to meet his fate in this cold and cruel night; however, the goddess seemed to gift him with comical entertainment by giving him the spectacle of Byleth trying to make him stay.

His lone blue for a moment stopped shunning a distant light, his focus grounded on the sight of his professor’s luscious locks becoming damp with this unforgiving rain; his chest rumbled as he allowed himself to laugh, finding her words pitiful and cynical almost.

She spoke of forgiving himself, that he had suffered enough.

“Live for what you believe in.” Her voice was stoic, as usual; yet the way her lips almost slurred those words out seemed to hold more meaning than just a faulty attempt to make him stay.

Those words struck directly into the abyss of his mind, pounded a foreign warmth unto his chest and hardened heart.

He cracked, and allowed everything to flow out after that.

“I am a murderous monster. My hands are stained red. Could one such as I truly hope for such a life?” The prince snarled as the sky kept weeping over him, his murky blond locks sticking further down his cold and afflicted expression.

“As the sole survivor of that day, do I… Do I have the right to live for myself?” He questioned softly as Byleth kept staring at him.

Dimitri stared at her extended hand when she offered it, his weak and tired blue eye marveled at how her skin seemed to resplendence in this eerie night.

How many times has Byleth been offering her hand like this?

He recalled the times she would extend her support when he would fail to best her in a duel; his young heart always skipping faster at the notion of being touched by her while she gave the faintest but generous of smiles.

He reminisced the time she extended her hand as she fell through a rift in the battle to defend Garreg Mach more than five years ago, how her eyes displayed terror as he failed to reach her in time; her scream as she fell still perturbed his ears and clouded almost all vision as he ignored the presence of the mythical creature being overwhelmed by beasts.

“Your hands are so warm…have they always been?” He questions as he accepted the offer, only to be surprised when Byleth held his large and cold hand with both of hers.

The prince recalls that moment in the goddess tower only a few months ago, how she seemed to be a saint instead of a torturous soul under the sun’s warm light and sparkling dust specks. How her hand seemed to gleam almost with an ethereal aura, much like her skin appears to be now.

He keeps remembering, how she extended her hand in every battle even when he rejected them every single time; how sometimes she held food or medicine to offer more than just a touch.

“Professor, what am I supposed to do? I have made countless innocents die, I have murdered even more…what can I hope to say that could amend all that I have destroyed and lost?” He questioned a little shaky, even more broken. “What am I supposed to do with all this hatred and regret?”

His breathing hitched as she moved closer to him, gently cradling his face instead to make him lower himself. A hot breath escaped him, allowing an almost eternal sigh to finally leave his throat as Byleth gently hugged him; tenderly warming him up.

“You must accept that these feelings will always be inside of you, Dimitri” She gently spoke, her fingers would loosely pass through his hair, avoiding the knot of his eyepatch. “You can’t allow regret and hatred be the only feelings to guide your words and actions however. Deep down, I know that your heart hosts love and empathy in it; honor and justice.”

“Your life is your own, allow for your heart to guide you.” She continued, “To feel is alright…to be alive is reasonable…to be yourself is acceptable.”

His shivering frame soon gives in, wrapping his arms around her as he allows himself to weep against her shoulder; for his faults and sins to be washed away if only for a moment by his tears and the rain.

The prince can’t understand nor shake away the gut-twisting emotion of helplessness and confusion from his stomach; the sensation only growing worse when his sobbing was not only his.

Her weeping was softer and more reserved, but it was still powerful; it was stronger than the roar of the rain and the screeches of the faraway thunder.

For a moment, he felt all sensations blurring with each other; even as she finally let go of him, there was something different; in both of them.

Dimitri wouldn’t question it, only allow himself to feel. Melting and becoming soft as she held his hand gently while walking away from the rain; the destination unimportant as he could only concentrate on her hold.

* * *

Arianrhod was seized and re-purposed for the kingdom’s army.

Dimitri had failed to capture Hubert, but now they had more troops to march towards Derdriu; hopefully, they would reach Claude in time.

The road back to the monastery was filled with high spirits, so it came to no surprise for the prince that a feast was being held to celebrate their victory. Dimitri allowed himself to smile as he signed a few leases and wrote a few requests for back up in the office that Gilbert provided for him here in Garreg Mach.

That his friends were celebrating brought him peace, but much like in Fhirdiad, he felt unworthy of dwelling with them too long.

Dimitri would simply not attend this banquet.

He casually blew out the candle on his desk, stretching softly before finally walking out and immersing himself in a quiet hall. His whole body felt stiff, and the weariness of his eye didn’t help much with the sense of exhaustion that invaded him. A gentle yawn ended up escaping, not even attempting to cover it since he simply needed his jaw to stop feeling so stiff.

A set of steps alerted him of someone coming, but it was too late for his yawn to stop. His sole blue met with the professor’s features; his cheeks slightly warming up while his heart exhilarated.

“Oh…” He mutters, trying quickly to think of a proper greeting for her. Byleth seemed unfazed by the coldness and ruthlessness of war; she always had a poise expression while a certain intricate and raw beauty coexisted in all her being.

She has always been mysterious and charming; her aloofness and certain reservation always managed to catch his attention, even when he was just a hopeless student pining on his amazing professor.

Now that the prince was allowing himself to feel and live for his own wants, so many emotions from the past were resurfacing at the same time; overwhelming him and clouding his already dubious judgment as they crashed with the newer sensations.

“It’s you.” Dimitri finally finishes his sentence, already wishing to hide himself in the study again for such a horrible greeting.

“Isn’t this a rare sight…” Byleth teases, smiling tenderly at him while being amused at his evident fluster. Her smile eventually fades as Dimitri forces himself to have a steady posture; followed by his words of praise and gentle encouragement for them to continue working together.

Byleth forces herself to blink as their gaze meets, always a tender and mellow sentiment brewing in her chest the longer she sees her reflection in his lonely sapphire; getting distracted whenever heavy blond eyelashes flicked.

Soon enough, she was forced to chide him for overworking himself; only to get overwhelmed by another report of the situation; her attention centered on him again when he stressed the word ‘atonement’, but also because he actually questioned her presence in this hall.

“I intend to steal you away to the victory celebration.” Byleth smiles again, her cheeks warming up as they recall together their time together back in their academy days; how Dimitri was the one to drag her into the Blue Lion’s celebration by offering his arm for her to take.

Times surely have changed.

Despite the prince’s hesitance at first, Byleth is quick enough to convince him to join into the merriment of it all. She ends up slowly blinking a few times as Dimitri emphasizes of joining the dining hall together; her toes slightly curling as he offers his arm.

Never mind, there are a few things that can still stay the same.

Or not.

“I was hoping you would join me for a short stroll before arriving to the dining hall?” Dimitri prompts as his cheeks feel warmer by the second, trying to keep his focus centered to make his stance not quiver after boldly offering his arm.

Dedue warns him that he still acts rash, and the prince can’t deny his observation.

Byleth stared at his arm perhaps rather too long, since she silently observed how the prince tried to retrieve his offer; on impulse she lunges forward and holds him, making them walk before the prince can say another word.

“Sorry, I lost track of time.” The professor stated boldly, appreciating how Dimitri seemed to not recover his balance fast enough as her arm was wrapped around his waist; his body feeling manageable as she dragged them through the dark corridor. “It’s not appropriate for me to hold the noble prince of Faerghus by the arm, our relationship may be mistaken with something more intimate.” Another stoic answer, her fingers digging a little deeper into his armor.

“I—I see.” Dimitri tried not to squeal, keeping his voice steady even if his steps were still tumbling. How was this more appropriate?

However, the prince wouldn’t protest. He could wrap his arm around her shoulders, sharing part of his cloak as they eventually lost themselves in jolly conversation; their bodies matching as perfect puzzle pieces the longer they walked.

Still, Dimitri’s heart felt invaded by sudden coldness.

Would the professor be truly offended if they were mistaken by lovers?

Is the professor courting someone?

Did he still have a slim chance of having a future where Byleth may be his beloved?

  
  


* * *

In a few days, the kingdom’s troops would march towards Derdriu.

Soldiers could be seen training since dawn; while workers and clerics could be found revising and managing supplies.

However, everyone’s attention would shift slightly whenever Byleth would make her presence; either to deliver a new order or to assist with a present task. The professor brought always certain tranquility with her, something about her appearance not changing in the slightest made those around her hope that after the war ends, they could also remain heavily unscathed.

Dimitri would often hear comments on how Byleth seemed to be the goddess’s way to input her help unto this ravaged world; some would even dare to compare the professor with Saint Seiros.

The prince couldn’t truly blame their thoughts, once upon a time he too deemed Byleth a saint; hell, he sometimes believes in this present time for her to be a goddess instead; a reachable entity that always extends a kind hand, or a cold swing of her blade to pass on a swift judgment.

However, he would keep those thoughts to himself; they were pointless and somewhat childish, taking into consideration the root of his recent admiration for Byleth. There was no point trying to hide it any longer, he wished to be able to court the professor; the amorous sentiments brewing in him could no longer be restrained despite war times were not meant to have romance and merriness in them.

Sylvain would constantly tease Dimitri, that despite everything the prince was still a pointless romantic that was caught just pining on his professor all over again.

That had to change. Dimitri was determined for his feelings to be acknowledged, even if he has to face rejection or perhaps disgust.

At the moment, the prince was sharing a warm conversation with Sylvain, taking a small respite after they left one of Ingrid’s seminars.

“Well your highness, despite that I would enjoy teasing you in the notion that your love holds no chance of being successful; I’m actually very certain that your feelings would be corresponded positively if you play your cards right.”

“Play…my cards right?” Dimitri tuned off slightly, his eyebrows furrowing as he took a more pensive stance. He felt his cheeks growing hotter by the minute, but he would need to withstand the heat a moment longer. “I don’t understand what cards have to do with me trying to court Professor Eisner, but go on.” His eye sparkled sudden hope, “Ah, unless. You mean to say I need to invite the professor for a game of chess?”

Sylvain shook his head, holding in a snort. “Not…quite.” He rubbed his nose lightly, a sly smile adorning his face now. “Though inviting the professor out is a very good step. Just try not to discuss political things or reports for the upcoming mission; free time should be spent in trying to know each other, drift away from responsibilities. Catch my deal?”

He nods “A game of chess might be interesting, but perhaps the professor would find more enjoyable not having to think of strategies or units in her free time as well.” His voice became a little adamant, “Keep things simple. Just invite her for a cup of tea.”

Dimitri listened closely, taking in all his friend’s feedback. “I see.” He nodded, solemnly. “Would she truly just accept a cup of tea if I don’t suggest exchanging morning reports or the status of our ranks?”

“I remember she used to chase you all around the monastery to invite you for some tea when we were much younger.” Sylvain teased, “Surely you two spoke more than just about our classes. Right?” He raised an eyebrow, “Right?”

Sylvain ended up groaning and then sighing when Dimitri remained quiet. “You’re quite clueless your highness, and don’t really catch cues…”

“Cues…?” Dimitri tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. Flayn had told him the same thing, and he still didn’t understand what she meant; he doesn’t understand Sylvain’s point either.

A set of steps forced Dimitri and Sylvain to cut short their conversation, both of them caught in awe when Felix was making his way towards them; by the way he stared, it appeared he had heard most of their conversation.

“You’re really asking advice from the man who can’t get a proper date?” Felix snarked; unable to avoid hearing the men that had decided to speak about this near the courtyard that used to be the Officer’s Academy. “You’re more pathetic than I thought.” A statement, staring directly at Dimitri.

“Felix!” Sylvain berated him, crossing his arms before puffing some air. “You wound me, my kind gentleman.” His voice soon became annoyed. “Tell me, what would you, the man who finds romance pointless and only a distraction from the sword, advise instead?”

“Your words lost valor a long time ago, boar.” Felix ignored Sylvain’s taunt. “It’s all about your actions now. The professor is not some flimsy noble or snobby aristocrat.” He crossed his arms, “She is a proud warrior, who carefully thinks about her every decision and each movement.”

“Hah, and that excludes her of enjoying the warmth and tenderness of a cup of tea or a love letter? You’re actually more pathetic than His highness.” Sylvain chuckled. “How on earth did Annette accept to have a date with you?”

Dimitri disconnected of everything as his friends began to bicker with each other, his concentration now centered at the image of Byleth as a whole. Sylvain’s words rang true, but Felix was right as well. 

However, the prince soon understood that he was caging the professor in a simple box; assessing her like the people who deemed her a saint and those who pointed at her like a murky assassin.

“Thank you for your kind advice, if you excuse me.” Dimitri suddenly spoke, offering a short bow before walking away. Leaving his friends behind who had begun to fight on a patch of grass.

The prince’s cheeks remained flushed as he walked towards the greenhouse, hoping that Dedue would be present to assist him on arranging a bouquet that could come close in matching with the professor’s beauty; he smiled widely when he recognized his friend’s sterling armor between a few hedges of pink orchids and dark red roses.

“Good afternoon, Dedue.” Dimitri greeted kindly as he met with an earnest verdant gaze. “Pardon for interrupting you, but I have a favor to ask you.”

“Your highne—,” The vassal cut off his words, smiling instead. “Dimitri.” He nodded. “Please, don’t hesitate to ask for my assistance. How may I help you?” His voice was cordial. 

The prince felt himself smiling non-stop as he spoke with his friend, rejoicing on the fact that Dedue called him by his name and also that he was willing to help him to arrange a small bouquet for the professor; Dimitri relying on his friend’s knowledge since in his younger days he never took the time to understand flower etiquette.

“Oh, these are gardenias.” The prince acknowledged as he brought them close to his face, enjoying the sweet fragrance emanating from them; quickly finding comfort.

“I am sure the professor will enjoy them,” Dedue reassured, gently motioning for the prince to hold the bouquet less aggressively. “These pink ones are gladiolus.”

Sincerity and strength, love and purity. Dimitri blushed at the message that his bouquet conveyed. “I’m hoping that shall be the case, my friend…” The prince softly sighed as he carefully inserted a single deep red carnation in the middle of everything.

Deep affection and admiration. 

No, Dimitri couldn’t do it. This was too bold, almost too intimate. 

His ghosts slowly began to beckon at him, mocking him for even believing he had the luxury to express his feelings; taunting him with self-loathing comments and painful slurs wishing to see him be rejected.

No. Not again. 

He would ignore them, these sensations made him happy; and for so, they were valid. It was acceptable to feel this infatuated; it was reasonable for him to seek an opportunity of expressing his sentiments honorably and honestly.

“Do you happen to know where the professor is at the moment?” Dedue beckoned as he noticed Dimitri’s features turning pale. “ I may offer some insight into her whereabouts if you happen to be clueless.”

“I…” A nervous blue averted around, shame quickly crawling in his being. “I actually have no clue,” Dimitri admitted, sighing defeated soon after. “It seems I acted rashly yet again, my friend.” He cleared his throat. “It would have been more proper to first invite the professor to meet me, and then arrive with this bouquet.”

Dedue tried to hold in a laugh but failed to do so. His chortle was bountiful, the flowers around them seemed to react positively to their caretaker’s jolliness. “Do not fret, my friend.” He tuned kindly, before offering his back as he picked up a pair of scissors and kept cutting off dead branches. “I believe your arrival will be highly appreciated by the professor…”

The prince stared at his friend in awe, due to the evident amusement he just witnessed. He forced himself to breathe and blink; but before Dimitri could speak, he was interrupted yet again.

“The professor was here a few minutes ago, she came requesting a small bouquet as well,” Dedue explained. “I offered white and purple tulips, deep red and yellow roses.” 

“I—I see.” Dimitri began to fret internally, wondering why the professor would request a bouquet when she had the knowledge to make one herself; in fact, she used to give flowers to everyone when they were much younger, she sometimes still does. “Is it possible for me to know the meaning of her bouquet? Or did she request discretion?”

Was his beloved professor planning to deliver a love message too?

Was he too late?

“Admiration for one’s accomplishments.” Dedue softly hummed as he explained. “Forgiveness.” A large hand gently removed a few dry leaves. “Loyalty, and…deep sorrow.” The vassal turned around, briefly meeting with Dimitri’s gaze. 

Dimitri blinked, his shoulders slightly slouching. “Oh…” His voice was grave, his lips going flat. 

The prince knew where to find Byleth, but now he wasn’t sure that his presence would be welcomed; visiting a family’s tomb always left a sour sting in one’s heart. 

For a moment Dimitri wished to chide Dedue for accepting his request knowing the professor’s plans for today, but he soon understood that would have been childish. 

“I believe your presence would be welcomed.” Dedue spoke.

“I don’t see how that can be a possibility.” Dimitri argued, “Less with this inappropriate gesture in my hand.”

“You cannot know unless you try, your highness.” The vassal picked up a watering can, moving away from the prince to attend small buds barely sprouting from the ground. “Grieving is different for everyone, perhaps the professor would find further solace if you stood beside her.” He voiced, gentle droplets of water serving as background noise to emphasize his point.

His words struck him fiercely, Dimitri’s breathing hitched soon after. Their gazes met for a moment.

After a few blinks, the prince managed to breathe and move again. “I understand.” He turned around, staring at the flowers in his hands before latching them inside his heavy cloak. “Dedue…” He offered a reverence, “Thank you.” He slowly mouthed before exiting the greenhouse, the clank of his boots slowly matching with his beating heart as he traversed through the monastery.

Dimitri felt himself chasing a beacon of light, even if he knew Byleth would be immobile at the moment. His long blond locks would follow the gentle breeze, sometimes forced to move a few hairs away from his eye to not be completely blinded.

His stomach churned once he reached the high steps that lead towards the graveyard, quickly recognizing her teal locks as they flowed with the wind’s current as well; her dark coat following the motion. Dimitri’s attention focused for a moment to the long sword plunged in the ground; the pulsing red core of the bone-edged blade glowing eerily.

As Dimitri came closer to her and the tomb that was being offered respect to, his courage would slowly leave him; all hesitation left when in a quick turn he met stoic emerald eyes; his lips curving slightly when her gaze became less frigid and more welcoming.

“Dimitri, what a pleasant surprise.” She greeted, offering a smile that could match the sun’s warmth. “Or, at least I hope for that to be the case. Has a new invoice arrived from Fhirdiad or Derdriu?” She questioned next, her eyebrows furrowing and slightly frowning.

“Not at all. Apologies for worrying you.” He frowned as well, “I just…” His thoughts scrambled all around; not finding a quick enough answer to give her. What could he say? That he simply wished to see her? That he desired to be by her side in a moment of grief?

No, all those questions were too intrusive.

All his actions are so—

“Dimitri.” She gently beckoned at him, facing her parents’ grave. “Would you stand by me? Just like all those years ago…”

The memory was brief, but the prince could recall it. Them, standing near this same grave on a cloudy day; silently staying beside her as they stared at the cold stone together; his arms serving as a fort when Byleth’s legs caved in and she began to silently cry.

The prince couldn't deny her request that time, the present wouldn't be different.

Time passed, none of them really counting the minutes as they both stared at the grave. The prince was forced to look at Byleth when he heard her shifting something in one of her pouches; his cheeks tinted themselves pink when her teeth began pulling on a bottle’s cork.

“He was a heavy drinker.” She nonchalantly explains as fizzy alcohol begins to fall on the tomb, “If he were alive, I’m sure he would boast about the war saving him from crippling debt due to how many tabs he had around.”

She sighs, her eyebrows slightly furrowing when she tilted the bottle back up. “and then apologize for his crude joke.”

Dimitri’s eyelid lowers, his lips going thin as he observes many regretful emotions on Byleth’s visage; he forces himself to look away, noting that he was being impolite. “Hm?” His nerves spark when he feels a tug on his cloak, blinking a few times when he now faces the sight of the professor sitting on the grass; silently motioning him to join her.

He gently sat beside her, now staring at her in bewilderment when she offered the bottle in her hand. 

“Care to toast?” She offers.

“…Toast?” He questions, raising an eyebrow. He fights it off, but ends up smiling. “My…family has never been good with alcohol.”

“Don’t worry, it’s cheap ale. Due to your height and the thickness of your blood, you would need a few bottles of this to knock you out.” She shook the bottle slightly. “Well?”

The prince recalls how sometimes alcohol was easier to acquire than clean water in the slums, memories of fighting off rats to remove them from the unscathed barrels in abandoned basements resurfaced. 

However, this drink was being offered in an open area, by a welcoming hand; in a more private and meaningful scenario.

“Thank you.” His voice was gentle as he holds the bottle carefully, concentrating fully on not shattering the fragile glass while drinking a few sips; the warmness that immediately follows feeling pleasant even if he couldn’t taste the beverage; the sting upon his tongue was pleasant.

“This scent isn’t ale, it’s…spicy rum?” He questions as he returns the bottle, blinking a few times before blushing at seeing how Byleth tilted the bottle with no restraint while she drank big gulps; his adam-apple bobbing as she carelessly cleaned the corner of her lips after sighing deeply.

“So, it’s true. You can’t taste anything…” She mumbled. “Sorry for lying to you.” A stoic apology as the bottle is set aside, now empty. Her arms rest over her knees, shifting on her sitting position a little. “That explains how you can devour Flayn’s cooking with no complaints.”

Dimitri frowns, feeling slightly tricked; he thought he was invited to share an intimate moment, but perhaps all that Byleth sought was to retrieve information from him. “If you were seeking to know more about the status of my body, you can simply ask me.”

“And risk getting an ambiguous answer, like when I ask about your eye during our tea times?” She challenges, turning to see him. “Only to go to the advice box a few minutes later and find an ‘anonymous’ inquiry on how to deal with dryness from the ocular membrane.”

She is met with silence and Dimitri’s slightly ashamed expression.

“I…don’t mean to berate you. I’m just worried about you.” She states boldly, turning to see the tomb again. “My father would be disappointed in me if I hesitated in that sense…”

“I see.” His tone is still gentle, sitting in a similar position as Byleth. 

Gustave would probably turn red at seeing the future king sitting on the floor beside his tactician; somehow that thought brought him relief, but also Byleth’s bluntness and openness made him relax. “I’m terribly sorry for troubling you, it’s not my intention to lie.”

“No need to apologize…” She nods. “I asked you to stay with me in search of finding comfort, but I ended up using this moment to gain something. Being raised as a mercenary makes me an opportunist at heart.”

Dimitri’s blush now crawls to his chest, his heart beat feeling faster by the minute. “You are far from opportunistic…if that were the case, you would have abandoned this war that has no connection with you.” He explains, “You wouldn’t be willing to march our troops into Derdriu when there is no concrete reward offered by Claude.”

“You said it yourself. Our troops.” She stares at the grim on their boots, smiling. “I believe that one should fight for the world they wish to live in, this fight is mine to take as well.”

Dimitri smiled as well. She used his words against him. 

Maybe she was a little, just a little, opportunistic. Her following words brought relief to him.

“I’m sure Captain Jeralt would be very proud of you, far away from disappointed. He always seemed the happiest whenever you were brought up in a conversation; always eager to invite the student council to attend your seminars and accept a meal with you.” Dimitri began, his voice was earnest and tender. “Alois would tell a few of us how sometimes he would fight with the Captain whenever their daughters came into the conversation.”

Dimitri stopped right there, feeling he was overstepping boundaries. He looked at her, making sure she was still willing to listen to his nonsense; somehow, his words could be taken as hypocritical. “Apologies, I don’t mean to…” He faltered, catching the brief exposure of raw emotion in Byleth’s features.

Her laugh was short and cynical, "Is that so..." a sound unknown to the prince's ears. The way her lips curved, how she seemed to glare at the tomb for a few moments before scoffing; everything was new for Dimitri.

“He liked you all very much. He was beyond elated when I chose to lead the Blue Lions, completely biased since he was born in Faerghus…” She gently eased him off, closing her eyes as many emotions swirled inside of her; she knows her comrades have been in this war for more than five years; understands that her father died so long ago, and yet, sometimes it feels that just yesterday she was arriving in the monastery.

It sometimes feels that it was just yesterday when her father was killed.

“He enjoyed eating Mercedes baked sweets. He would offer cheers whenever I said Annette was about to participate in a reason tournament.” She exhales, “He would laugh whenever I mentioned Sylvain getting detention for hitting on a female gambit, his eyes would sparkle when I explained how Felix and Ingrid were eager to learn his techniques from me.” She pauses, softly inhaling. “He felt proud whenever I explained how I saved some funds thanks to Ashe’s ability to haggle, he felt gratitude whenever Dedue harvested some flowers for my mother’s grave.”

Another silence, but it’s broken by her shaky exhale. “He felt contentment whenever I would flaunt about your steady improvement with the blade and how you guided your gambit sternly yet respectful.” She curled, fingers losing themselves slightly on her hair as she pushed it back; hiding her face with her knees. 

“He would tease me of always buying off all the chamomile in the market…” She didn’t notice when it became so dark around her; or why her cheeks felt suddenly so damp. 

“H—Happy…He was happy that I was making friends.” Her throat felt suddenly swollen, making her stutter. “F—Friends that I abandoned…” Her nose barely detected a sweet scent comforting her shivers as she began to weep. “That I failed to protect, just like him...”

Her sorrow was audible for Dimitri’s ears, her guilt evident by how hoarse she began to let out gibberish. “Friends that I have allowed to die, to get killed, to come back to die twice, _thrice—"_ Her words ceased, but her lament continued as she allowed to be held by him; ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of his cold armor nudging her softest muscles.

“Byleth…” He tried to calm her, cursing under his breath for being unable to hold her closer as she wept against him; keeping her sealed off from the world if only for a few moments with his cloak and arms while a large hand gently passed over her head.

She was no saint or goddess, not a demon or pagan devil.

She was the master of the Creator’s Sword, the co-leader and flickering hope of the Faerghus’ army; a darling friend and stunning muse for a few in their ranks.

To him, she was everything he wished to have; someone he wished to take, a person he desired to comfort and support, to love and appreciate, to digress and find mutual understanding.

She was a young woman, with power and responsibilities that burdened deeply her soul and etched her frame with the heaviest of seams.

“Di…” She tried to catch her breath as her frame shook less, “—mitri.” A short gasp. “Dimitri…please forgive me.”

It all clicked to him, how she seemed to perfectly know what to say to him on that stormy night when he was willing to throw away his life; for everything to finally end.

“You need to forgive yourself. You have suffered enough…” He gently recited the words that were once offered to him; words that brought him back to the living and filled him with hope. “There is nothing to be forgiven, you taught me to live again…to start believing again.” A gentle whisper, silently asking forgiveness for speaking for his friends next “You are the one who brought us all the way here, always offering your hands and keeping us from falling astray.”

“Beyond crossroads and piercing through all odds. It is all thanks to you, my friend.” Dimitri continued, sensing how Byleth slowly recollected herself. “Silently sacrificing…such burdens should not fall only on your shoulders. Know that you can always rely on me.”

He offered silence next, feeling that enough had been said; perhaps too much.

“Dimitri…” Her voice was much calmer now, her body still hidden as she breathed against him; feeling reassured and almost intoxicated by the scent surrounding her; and also, by his words. “Have you…always been this warm?” Her nails gently clawed his chest plate, trying to hold on.

The prince didn’t answer to that, but his chest hitching did so for him.

“Your heart…it beats so strongly.” She mumbled; the sound seemed foreign. “So, this is how it’s supposed to sing…”

Byleth went silent after that. Dimitri looked around nervously for a few instances, but slowly parted when the professor had remained coiled for quite some time. “Professor?” He gently beckoned as the sun finally illuminated her again, his arms and cloak slowly moving away to be able to observe.

She fell asleep.

His lips went flat as he slowly trapped her in his arms again, blushing as the memory of her teal hair almost becoming white with the sun being caught in it; how her features still seemed to be ethereal despite her lower lids were slightly swollen; her cheeks and lips reddened by the pressure exerted on them.

“Please, forgive me.” He apologized as he slowly stood up, trying to keep her concealed as he gently held her with an arm; awkwardly picking up the Creator’s sword and offering a silent apology for leaving the bottle behind.

Holding Byleth and the mythical sword like this brought back memories, though he would push them aside as the prince did his best to avoid crowded passages and dwelled in corners where shadows kept them slightly hidden from passing knights.

He didn’t wish for ill rumors to befall on the professor’s name, and to take her somewhere like the infirmary would mean someone else could see Byleth in this state; betraying her trust like this was a complete negative on his book.

Dimitri thanked into the nothingness for Garreg Mach to be so barren now, even if the thought was crude.

The prince believed that allowing Byleth to rest in his room would be for the best; he could avoid being seen entering and exiting her own premises; and that way the professor could rest on clean sheets and warm blankets.

He knew well Felix’s and Sylvain’s schedules, so the professor could exit his room with no chance of getting caught.

However, what Dimitri didn’t consider at the time was where exactly would he rest; and how Byleth would react to him bringing her here.

Heavens, even his youthful self was less idiotic.

The man ended up just propping himself on a chair after removing part of his armor, endearingly staring at the sleeping woman in his bed; her body concealed and staying warm by his cloak. A heavy sigh escaped him. “If I were to leave to wait in another room, she could be startled for me bringing her here…” He mouthed to himself. “I’ll just have to apologize when she wakes up for my impertinence.”

Night time was still away, and it was highly possible that Byleth would wake up before the sun sets. Dimitri knew he was simply overreacting, but he couldn’t help it. His heart still felt like it would soar out of his body; his flesh almost craved to keep embracing her.

Her words kept pounding gently in his mind.

The longer his sole blue stared at her gentle breaths, the more a certain weariness took over him; she was comforting and pleasant to gaze upon, his body felt almost lulled by the repeated motion of her eyelashes flickering time to time.

Time seemed to pass slowly, both adults stuck in deep slumber; though one was more comfortable than the other. Teal eyelashes eventually fluttered to then reveal hazed emeralds, the professor groaning softly as she slowly sat up and tried to recognize where she was.

Her fingers lost themselves in the fabric of a cloak, blinking a few times as she recognized a wolf pelt and the insignia of the kingdom. “Dimitri?” She gently beckoned as her head turned towards the rest of the room; soon meeting with the sight of the prince loosely resting on the back of a chair, his features soft and relaxed as he seemed to be having a pleasant rest.

Connecting dots wasn’t something complicated for her, that being said, it didn’t stop her cheeks from warming up at the given implication and to the sight in front of her. “Dimi…” She stopped, smiling slightly. No, it would be a little selfish to wake him after he has such a hard time to grasp sleep.

Her steps felt guided as she left the bed, a crunch under her boot forcing her attention to face downwards. “Oh…” Byleth simply mouthed as she picked up the now slightly ruined bouquet in her hand; guilt invading her system as she recognized a few flowers.

It was a very romantic bouquet.

An ardent, passionate, and pure expression of love.

Her lips slightly twisted. She recognized the scent of these flowers; they had been present in Dimitri’s cloak when he allowed her to weep against him. Jeralt had always warned her that emotions were dangerous if not handled properly, he would probably chide her for breaking down near his tomb; in front of a royal no less.

However, another type of guilt invaded her; Dimitri seemed to be on his way to confess his affection for someone before she basically forced him to spend some time together.

Clumsily, her hands worked to fix the slightly crushed carnation, trying to rub away her boot’s mark from the white petals of the gardenias.

No, it simply wasn’t salvageable.

Why…is she feeling relief now? She just ruined someone’s opportunity to confess, to…

Byleth held the bouquet a little tighter as her eyes fell on Dimitri again. Her breathing becoming a little ragged as the soft light of dusk got caught in his golden hair; the lines across his dark shirt being enhanced by a soft orange hue that left little to the imagination.

This was torture. Byleth tried her best to keep an appropriate distance and respect between them, knowing well the future roles that await for both if they are successful in ending the war; and yet, her stale heart demanded otherwise from her every single time Dimitri came into view.

She wished to intertwine completely with his fate, to share every single victory and defeat with him; she desired to hold him close, run her fingers through his hair and not so appropriate areas as well.

She craved to embrace and kiss him, to whisper sultry words into his ear to observe his cheeks heating up; if she were lucky, maybe he would whisper something amorous and playful in return, melting her on the spot.

However, these feelings were selfish. Selfish to him and to the world. She was destined to live far beyond the lifetime of her comrades, none of those who cherished her deserved to see her trapped in an ageless body; to question and be confused further after surviving so many things.

Those thoughts didn’t matter regardless. Dimitri was in love with someone, and that was enough to keep herself in line. Her duty is to bring this war to an end, and bring prosperity to Fódlan by reforming the church from within before leaving everything behind; trusting that her comrades will do the right thing without her presence.

“Professor?”

He beckoned at her, and she almost wished to hide in his bed again. Byleth had failed to notice that she had stayed standing there awkwardly instead of leaving, staring into the nothingness as the bouquet was still trapped in her hands.

Her eyes followed the motion of him standing up, tenderly removing the weariness of his eye as he seemed to ask about her well-being; something of apologizing for bringing her into his room and that he would avoid such caddish actions in the future.

“You…” His voice was pleasant, deeper than usual. “for a moment…” She tries to keep up with it, but she can’t “brought you here…”

His voice was just so lost to her, she could only stare as his lips moved or his eye slowly blinked. Her ears buzzed while heat pooled all around, toes soon curling as the bouquet’s scent kept her restrained and entranced at the same time.

“I’m sorry.” She brusquely interrupted him, almost shoving the flower arrangement towards him. “I accidentally stepped on this. Please allow me to compensate you with the same arrangement tomorrow.” Her cheeks soon warmed up. “It seems I interjected an important moment for you, thank you for being so courteous nevertheless.”

“Oh…” He slowly mouthed, but soon allowed a breathless laugh to escape, realizing what she was offering and holding. “No, professor. This is…” His own cheeks warmed up.

His throat throbbed slightly before he found courage again; he preferred to be deemed a cad for expressing his feelings in the privacy of his room than to risk Byleth misunderstanding these flowers. “It was my mistake, for carelessly leaving them somewhere where they could be mistreated.”

“I see.” She smiles, finding amusing how he still tries to remove blame from others. “Nevertheless, I’ll make sure to bring you a replacement.” She still offered, but her eyes were now facing the sight of his hands holding hers, not truly accepting the bouquet back.

They shared a small silence, like usual. While sometimes quietude can be unnerving and uncomfortable; somehow, they both enjoy the peace and mutual understanding that comes with it.

His hands held hers a little tighter, and Byleth wished to almost go back in time.

Almost.

“Dimitri…” Byleth dared to look at him, finding so many emotions in that single blue that made her chest tighten.

She had to go back; this was irresponsible of her.

“These are for you.” He confessed, “I apologize for being importunate, but I can no longer live another day without confessing my affection for you.” A bold statement. “You, who have always guided me ever kindly and remained my ally through it all. I love you, most passionately.”

The room feels like it’s spinning, everything moves except him; a strong mast that keeps her grounded to the present.

“I wish to remain by your side, forever. Together.” He continued.

No, Dimitri doesn’t understand what forever truly entails if he remains by her side; she would probably be selfish, sharing some of her blood to him so they are forever roaming the world if they manage to stay alive.

“Please, say something…” Dimitri gently begged as he was met with an empty stare, his hold being less tight as the bouquet was finally resting in his hands.

_Just let it be. Just let it be. Just let it be._

Byleth chided herself, trying to restrain the urge to simply grasp him from his shirt and pull him into a kiss; for her body to be consumed by his words.

_It’s a momentary attraction, it shall fade within time._

She furrowed her eyebrows as his breathing slowed down, his stare withering her indifference.

_Just a touch, just one kiss._

The bouquet fell to the ground again as her hands pulled him down, aggressively clashing her lips with his own as her gaze didn’t falter against his surprised one immediately. They puffed air together before immersing themselves into a searing kiss.

Their consciousness seemed to fade away as they could only concentrate on the sensation of their lips meeting each other for the first time; their teeth clanking together a few times that only made the hunger in them grow, searching to make their inexperience fade, together.

“Byleth…” She enjoyed how his voice tuned the name affectionately and almost breathless against her lips, how his hands kept the crook of her neck and her lower back warm. “My beloved Byleth…” He was so dulcet and endearing, contrasting his hungry tongue that soon dared to explore the insides of her mouth; challenging and taking possession of her.

There was still time, she could go back. Prevent this bond from forming. She could probably even avoid Dimitri from finding her until they are forced to march towards Derdriu.

“I love you…” A breathless repetition as he parts away from her, staring lovingly at her features. “My precious light…” He beamed with a smile, tears soon forming in his healthy eye “Please, remain by my side, always…”

Nobody is perfect, perhaps she did deserve this.

Perhaps, she could allow herself to have this after everything that has been lost.

“Please, keep kissing me…” She gently begged as their lips met anew, feeling drunk by the sensation of her lips going sore with his, sharing a smile as their arms wrap around each other to not let go any time soon.

Byleth wished to indulge herself, to indulge him.

She would deal with the consequences, later.

* * *


	2. Course(+18)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussions with a tint of desire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Project request. Thank you so much!
> 
> \----  
> Warnings: Dirty Talk, Possessive Behavior, Vaginal Fingering, Simultaneous Orgasm

* * *

Derdriu was saved successfully, with the Leicester Alliance’s troops merged with the kingdom’s, the assault against Enbarr looks manageable and with a high chance of being successful.

The short farewell with Claude felt bittersweet, but it ignited a gentle hope for better things to come in the future.

Garreg Mach was once again jolly, not only for the non-interrupted victories but also for the supposed engagement between the Holy Prince and the Enlightened One; while across the kingdom and other parts of Fódlan took it just as an unsavory rumor to keep morale high; those close to the betrothed knew it was no fallacy.

The endearing stares, the prolonged tea and meal times, the heated debates.

“A head-on approach? Fort Merceus is known to match Arianrhod on every level. If we were to send our main troops to capture the main floors while the smaller gambits disintegrate highly possible reinforcements, we would be caught in a stalemate.” Byleth argued, her tone was reserved. “ A very chaotic stalemate. If our captains die; the battlefield would be nothing but bloodshed.”

“The Death Knight guards the Stubborn Old General.” Dimitri explained, using the fort’s nickname. “It’s a fortress city, to compare it with a mere fort would be foolish. Its surrounding areas have abundant agriculture and fishing; if we attempt to overthrow it with shameless antics, we will be toppled.” 

“Shameless antics?” Byleth raised an eyebrow, a low chuckle soon following. “My, I find more shameless on how you try to make us believe that a head-on assault it’s not a fool’s death wish.” Her lips curved, tone soon defiant. “Allow me to remind you that my not so honorable strategies have led us to victory and with the minimum of casualties for both sides on the battlefield. If you don’t believe me, then our prisoners of war can testify on it.”

She crossed her arms, the rolled scroll in her hand getting tightly clenched as aggravation soon boiled in her core. “But please your highness, do continue.”

The sturdy meeting tent suddenly felt cold; those present around the strategy table began staring in awe at their leaders; their lips going thin as the tension could almost make their skin crawl.

Yes, heated debates.

“My apologies, it was never my intention to accuse your brilliant strategies as dishonorable.” Dimitri apologized, but his voice soon rumbled grave at his following words; matching his steady gaze that didn’t dare to grow faulty against a proud emerald one. “However, it’s my duty to protect my people; and the heavily poisonous assault that you suggest it’s quite crude against not only our enemies, but also to our battalions.”

The prince crossed his arms as well, his head slightly tilting upwards. “ I simply cannot accept this ploy.” His chest tightens for a moment, enjoying the unwavering stare he was receiving from his beloved; in any other scenario, he would have already crossed over the table to kiss her passionately and take every single breath from her.

“We shall not commute our troops if this is what you offer. I hereby declare a standby as we formulate another approach.” He boldly stated, cheeks feeling warmer as Byleth slowly uncrossed her arms; taking in every detail of her visage and the different glints of her prestigious robe. “That’s an order.”

Very, very heated debates.

Gilbert offered a bow, while Dedue came to stand closer to Dimitri.

“A standby in the middle of Gronder Field? Why don’t you simply order us to lift our arms and surrender to the Empire?” Byleth challenged, her eyes following the way Dimitri’s jaw tensed and how he clenched his fists; her breathing calming down even if her mind was now slowly tumbling with images of the prince being trapped between her legs.

The idea of shutting the prince up with her folds was very tempting.

“My order is an ultimatum.” Dimitri rasped the sentence. 

“You repeating your words won’t make me leave faster.” Byleth answered as she slowly made her hands rest on the table, nails digging into the map spread across with a few wooden pieces. “If that order leaves this tent, then consider my battalions non-existent in your campaign.”

Seteth came to stand beside Byleth, unwavering.

Sylvain and Felix exchanged a stare, both men looking at the remaining member in the current council: Ingrid

Both hoping to find a clue on how to de-escalate the situation.

The Pegasus knight glared gently at Felix, noticing how the sword-master seemed to be smirking and enjoying the discourse.

“Don’t be absurd. We both know seizing Enbarr and rescuing Lady Rhea would be impossible if we were to work separately.” Dimitri argued, unable to hide his surprise at Byleth’s stubbornness. 

“Then, you know what to do.” She finished, the tempest meeting soon coming to its climax.

“Whoa, there.” Sylvain finally intervened, noting that no one was daring to be the knife to cut off this tension. “Let’s not jump from the bridge so fast, professor!” He nervously laughed, smiling genuinely when he noticed how Byleth seemed to ease off by her old title being used. 

“Listen, we’ve been in this meeting for far too long. How about we take a small break and return once we had some grub and fresh air?” Sylvain looked around his teammates, meeting with Dimitri’s lone glare head-on. “Surely after some fresh air, we can all come up with a strategy that includes both of your ideals.”

Dimitri furrowed his eyebrows, slowly calming down. It was true; after days of constantly marching, it was understandable that everyone’s emotions were slightly more stirred than usual, the tactical meeting only making it worse. “Sylvain is right. Thank you, friend.” He nodded, looking softly at Byleth again. “Please, professor. Let’s heed the advice from our comrade, and resume our meeting after the short breather.” He offered a short bow.

Byleth’s face was now stoic, her eyes shifting to meet with Seteth’s; looking for advice as she stood straight again.

The prince’s stomach churned at the sight, frowning when the priest moved her collar slightly to whisper something into Byleth’s ear. He sighed through his nose when her lips curved slightly before letting out a short chortle.

He wished to throw away the table and drag her to his side.

“Very well.” Byleth agreed to Dimitri’s suggestion, offering a bow as well. “Is an hour favorable for you?”

“Yes.” Dimitri hastily answered, glaring at her softly. “However, I wish to speak with you for a few moments.” A pause. “Privately.” He emphasized.

Her features didn’t shift in the slightest. She quickly offered a nod to Seteth, before glancing at the prince again. “Very well.”

The tent was soon emptied, Sylvain snorting along the way as he dragged Dedue and his childhood friends with him, the red-head knowing what was about to go down in that spot between their leaders; Seteth and Gilbert walking towards another side of the camp to discuss ahead, devising together so their leaders could come into an agreement.

Anything was better than the whole fleet being split up.

Byleth’s chuckle was low as she held the corners of the table, her ears feeling hot while the rest of her body tingled at the challenging sight; a sole blue was glaring at her, but she was also receiving a fly smirk.

Perhaps it had been a wonderful mistake to stay alone with the prince.

“Don’t give me that look, Alexandre. It’s no use, I won’t be talked down.” She warned, trying to quickly evaluate her options as Dimitri seemed ready to pounce forward. “I desire to bring victory forth; for hopes and dreams to not be quelled in Enbarr’s madness.”

“Then our desires are one in a same, your Grace.” He scoffed at his other name being used, hating and loving it at the same time. “However, I won’t allow for your honor to be tainted by an atrocious victory.”

“My honor?” She hummed, her gaze following the way a black shirt held his frame; part of his armor not present due that most of their equipment needed to be refurbished. “I don’t recall you caring for my honor being tainted when you took me in your arms a few moons ago.” A taunt, her eyes now staring at the clasps of his cloak.

“Why, my beloved.” Dimitri slowly walked to her, his gaze never leaving hers as she moved around the table; keeping a safe distance. “The stained glass of Saint Seiros watched over us that night in the cathedral.” He teased, fondness and desire etched in every word. “Your cry out prayers for the goddess clearly gave us a blessing pass.”

Byleth felt her face heating up, the memory of them drowning themselves in pleasure between a few pews back in Garreg Mach made her smile. “Oh, just my prayers? What about yours?”

“I had never been one to pray for the goddess, though that night you made me question if you truly are mortal.” Another dulcet and sultry statement, “Surely, me chanting your name non-stop granted you divinity.” The sight of her flustered cheeks and neck was destroying him, intoxicating every nerve as he could already curse under his breath for the pressure applied to his loins by the black metal plate.

“How dare you, using a maiden’s past.” She sneered playfully. The prince already knew about her connections with Sothis, her ability to control time for the slightest of glimpses while keeping certain fates unmoving. “Perhaps I should turn back and avoid this meeting all together. You’ve been nothing but a cad.”

Dimitri got tired of this game of cat and mouse, holding to the ends of the table when they were back to their original spots. “Unfortunately for you, I doubt that would save you. No man or creature would convince me of letting you leave these grounds.” He warned.

“Good.” Byleth held the ends of the table as well. “I am no man, nor creature.” She focused on the way he slightly heaved a breath and how softly his golden locks fell over his broad shoulders. “I’m hopeful that on the next meeting, you’re less stubborn.”

“Likewise, my beloved.” He smiled.

The prince let out a low chuckle while Byleth softly glared at him, enjoying the fact that she was doubting using a Divine Pulse or not. “Hmm, what seems to be the matter? If my remaining eye is not betraying me, I still believe we are in the present…unless you failed, and we are stuck in the same predicament.”

“You, son of a—” Byleth bit her lip.

“Well?” He slightly taps his fingers on the table.

Byleth ended up groaning, admitting defeat. “You know a frontal assault is madness!” Her tone was exasperated. “Why are you so determined for that to be our move?”

“You know very well why. The Death Knight is there, and we both know he won’t fall for surprise ploys or slow-draining maneuvers.” He explained, his tone soon growing sour. “In the past, that man took a strange satisfaction from his fights with you. I won’t allow him to come close to you; and hopefully, Mercedes accepts to stay away from the front lines in this fight.”

“He is unpredictable and dangerous.” He added.

“I doubt Mercedes accepts to stay behind.” She reasons, “Much like Caspar refused to not face his own family.” A soft sigh follows “He may be unpredictable and dangerous, but so am I; and unlike him, he doesn’t have second chances.” She adds with a rebuttal. “Dimitri, you can’t hope for me to agree to a head-on assault and for Mercedes and I to stay behind. It’s unreasonable.”

“My fight with Jeritza is fated, I’m sure of so.” Byleth decides to address him by name, “I am his pleasure, and so I…will grant him his wish to fall by my blade, if he refuses to stand down that is.”

“His pleasure?” Dimitri almost sneered, feeling his restrains coming loose anew. “May Mercedes forgive me, but not even by hell’s hounds would I ever allow him to address you like that ever again. My lance would meet his gut first.”

There was a short silence, but Byleth broke it with a gentle snicker. “How crude.” She looks at the wooden figures on the table. “My father would have probably laughed.” A blunt comment as well, slowly losing control of her emotions as she allows herself to gently laugh.

Dimitri smiles as well, joining her in the amusement of it all though he was much more reserved; again, just the sight of her made him wish to throw it all away and have her; for his teeth to mark her soft flesh and slowly consume themselves in pleasure.

If Byleth belonged to anyone, it would be to him; no one else.

“Very well. I’ll try to device something favorable for a frontal attack with Seteth and Sylvain.” She softly sighs. “However, do have in mind that Mercedes and I will be on the frontal lines; that won’t be up for discussion.”

He glares at her again, followed by a defeated groan. “Understood. However, I request that such tactical meetings are in my presence.” His stomach feels like it’s churning again. “I don’t find it appropriate for men to be in your tent at late hours; no matter if they are just comrades or…advisors.”

“Hmm…” Her lips quirk upward. “Is the all mighty prince jealous?”

“Yes.”

His blunt honestly makes her laugh again. Byleth’s amusement is cut short when the prince tries to lunge towards her, yet in a quick motion the table was pushed towards him; knocking the air out of his lungs when it met his stomach.

“Predictable.” She mocks with a grin, “Always so rash. You’re not making a good job at proving how a frontal attack is a good idea.”

A banter.

The prince had enough.

The table was soon knocked over, maps and strategic pieces meeting the floor while the once mercenary tried to avoid an enraged prince; between laughter and soft puffs, the tent soon went silent when the prince managed to catch his beloved.

“You unbolted mule.” He groaned as their lips finally met, words slightly muffled as all locks are quickly being removed from his mind due to her short moans “Do not dare to escape me.” He playfully berates as his large hands follow the curve of her back, and lower.

“Why would I want to escape?” She muses as her hands are already working to undo the clasps that keep his groin plate in place, soon smiling at how she still manages to make him blush by her adamant movements and words. “I’m exactly where I want to be…” A sultry whisper as her teeth grace his bottom lip gently, softly exhaling when metal echoes around before her fingers press against his warm member.

She ends up whining when the prince forces them to be on the ground, falling over maps and other parchments as the table provides them further cover; not that she needed it, his body soon became her warm prison with the promise of more. “You stubborn hound,” She berates as his hands are soon pulling away her shorts and stockings, her skin crawling when ungloved hands start to caress sore muscles and softer areas. “Always being so rash in everything.”

“You are…” He whispered as her lower body was exposed to his delight, her clothes resting near her boots. “rather calm for one in your position.” His fingers follow the shape of her navel, finding further pleasure when a few of his digits got lost between the curly hairs that tried to keep her wet slit safe.

“Dimitri…” Byleth moans as his cold fingers pass over her clit, quickly shifting a little. Sudden embarrassment reflecting on her tone and gestures.

“Look at you, already so wet and eager.” He almost grumbles the words, lowering his head near hers to have the chance of whispering into her ear while his fingers slowly start filling up her warm entrance. “Were you looking forward to be fucked senseless by me?” A bold statement to match his thumb slowly caressing her clit.

“You—You!” Her words are muffled by her lips, closing her eyes tightly while her arms soon trap his neck; wishing to keep his breath and voice closer while her legs spread further for him; eventually moaning softly when his short gasps and the wet sounds of his fingers make her lose all decorum.

“You’re mine.” Dimitri whispers as her head falls back, his teeth soon gracing over her nape to leave gentle bites and marks behind; sucking her flesh tenderly where her collar or pendant didn’t protect. Relishing at feeling her pulse against his tongue. “Just mine.” His whisper now more desperate, clouded by lust.

“Mine,” His member twitching and begging for release just at the thought of the little excuses Byleth would have to give for the redden spots across her body. “Every breath, every thought.” He softly hisses as her hands go under his shirt, nails soon crawling on his back. “Your pleasure is mine to take.”

“Don’t stop, don’t stop.” She instructed him, not wishing for his words or movements to cease. “Heavens, Dimitri!” She screamed as her body began to shiver, pleasure soon clouding the world around her while his voice and touches kept her grounded.

“Goddess, I…” Byleth whined as her cunt tightly wrapped around his fingers faithfully, immersing in the sensation of her walls being probed; beckoning to give in and release against them.

“Come for me.” He commanded and she listened, back softly arching as her essence gushed out to drench more than just his fingers; greedily taking in his content groans while he forced her to give in more than once.

“Curse you,” He shakily sighed as he roughly took his fingers back, sucking on them eagerly with a moan as he could imagine her taste just by the scent. “Curse you for what you do to me.” He whispered as his blue followed the movement of her shaky hands removing her chest plate, relishing on the view of her exposed breasts once she slowly pulled them out.

His pants soon met his knees as he rashly undid his belt. “Do you want me?” He asks softly, already knowing the answer but never getting tired of her voiced acceptance.

“Yes,” She almost coos the word, a hand resting on her chest while the other lowers to her still stimulated entrance, two fingers gently separating her folds. “Right here.” A gentle whisper as her middle finger passes over her leaking entrance, “Right here, my love…”

Dimitri dryly gulps, heavily sighing through his nose. Savoring the moment like if he had the time of the world at the tip of his fingers; and perhaps, he did. 

Her body was soft yet harsh; worked in the perfect places while the scars adorning her skin reminded him of how reachable and real she is.

Perfectly to take, perfectly to give yourself to her.

Her laugh is gentle and breathless when Dimitri seems to be taking his time to enter her, even if his leaking head is already passing softly against her. “What’s wrong my love, cat got your tongue?” She teases and soon smiles, enjoying the way his eyebrows furrow and how flushed his exposed skin is. “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts…”

He allows himself to scoff as he lowers himself, roughly sucking on a perky nipple to make her squirm and gasp; but soon enough, his lips are near to an ear. “I had enough second thoughts when I was younger. I wouldn’t make that mistake once again…” He confesses as he finally pushes inside her, moaning in unison as both of them receive attention.

His thrusts were surprisingly gentle, and Byleth takes this moment to reach for his shirt to pull it; wishing to feel his warm skin against hers if only for a few moments. “Really...” The pace feels a little awkward, but his scent and sweat soon took that thought away. “I never thought you would— _ohh_.” A sharp gasp as he began to thrust faster, “think twice when you were younger; you made it quite complicated to keep you safe.”

“You still do.” She chides with a moan against his ear, receiving an immediate grunt from him as his cloak completely covers them.

“I was just so eager to impress you!” He exclaims a little frustrated, hating the fact that he couldn’t feel her plump ass fully in this position; but he was too invested on her whispers and touches to demand anything else.

His confidence and pleasure blooms further when she starts heaving, the sound of their flesh pounding each other was perfectly lewd and wet, reverberating through his ears; the tightness of her cunt overpowering anything else. “You have no idea how many times I found release thinking about you!” A deep and ardent confession.

“Ahh, Dimitri!” She screamed as her back arched again, her legs wrapping around his slim waist. His thrusts were delicious, and his libido only made her own desire feel as sweet; the thought of them getting caught only adding to the pleasure for how dangerous it could be.

“You naughty prince,” She gives in as her smile is bright, giving in to the sensation of his tongue brushing over her breasts in perfect rhythm with the movement of his hips; her eyes dazed as she allows to simply stare into the nothingness. “Di—Dimitri!” She whimpered between a dry gulp.

“Oh, that expression…” He muses as his mouth lets go of her breast with a hot pop, his face soon looming over hers to feel her every breath against his; he slows down the pace again, wishing for the moment to last a while longer. 

“Tell me, what can I do so you keep calling my name with a smile?” A whisper as he kisses the corner of her open mouth. “Tell me, my beloved light…” He lowly demands with a deep thrust, slowly pulling his member out to then push inside with a satisfying splurge made of their combined fluids; her robe retrieving the excess of their sinful mix fueled his desire more,primal need overcoming all else as he imagined his beloved walking around with his scent imbued on her skin and clothes.

She muffles a scream, determinately staring into his wicked blue. Her lips quirk again when the prince’s features start to loosen up as well; unable to resist her gaze against his own. “Just keep taking me.” Slowly, she coaxes him with her tender words and stare. “Ahh…” A soft moan as her hand meets his face, keeping him close until her mouth reaches his ear; enjoying the way his breathing was becoming ragged.

“Do my words satisfy you?” Her self-control was slurring away too. “Do you want to know a little secret?” She found herself a purpose: to destroy him, and be destroyed in return. “I touched myself—myself at the thought of you,” Her fingers lost themselves in his beautiful hair, intoxicated by his unbolted shivers. “on that night after the goddess tower, all those years ago.”

“I should have wished for your words to not be a jest that night.” She ended her confession, his movements stopping too. He stared at her in bewilderment, but soon nothing but a mischievous smirk and lascivious gaze was all that Byleth received.

“Dimitri,” Byleth whispered, “Dimitri,” She moaned. “Dimitri!” A pleasurable cry as his thrusts became frantic and unforgiving, merciless like his teeth clenching her nape again; stealing her breath away in more senses than one.

“Byleth, Byleth, Byleth!” He grunts her name like a prayer, greedily taking her acceptance and confession. Her warmth was heavenly, feeling nothing but merriness as he forced her to moan and even scream with each thrust and every single passionate kiss.

Everything starts to feel numb despite the short hairs across their skins were perked. Finding release together always felt endearing for the soul and satisfying for the flesh; their whimpers and short gasps feeling hot and celestial against each other’s tongues.

Byleth’s lips feel sore as Dimitri moves away, keeping eyes shut as she enjoys his sweat falling over her eyelashes while his release slowly fills her up; her walls twitching as the prince keeps thrusting even after her cunt can’t receive or feel no more; pulsing softly when her walls are once again empty while a trail of white leaves her entrance.

She feels his velvety lips against her own once again, but it’s shortly enjoyed as he pushes away; making her scoff but stay unmoving since it’s still too fast to react or argue. “Hey...” A weak whisper that soon turns into a moan as his hands hold her hips and force them up, her toes soon curling when the prince’s mouth is slowly licking their combined arousal away from her skin.

“Haven’t you done enough to me?” She protests with heavy eyelids, her smile gentle as the prince grabs her clothes and starts placing them again on her; tenderness and nurture reflecting on the action despite his hands could be treacherous and dangerous at any given moment.

“No, there is no such thing as enough with you.” An honest answer as his lips kiss over her leg, stocking already protecting her skin. He works to put her boots next, smiling as he meets her tired gaze. “I love you.” He states pleasantly, his hand reaching to fondle a breast for one last time before pulling the dark cloth to protect it from peeving eyes.

Byleth holds in a snicker, a breath even. “Hmph.” She beckons with her hands for him to come closer again so their lips could meet and her hands could arrange his now sweaty and messy locks. “I love you.” A bold and sweet statement too, “Despite how you caddishly consume me on any surface available, I love you most ardently.”

His skin flares at that, and looks away shyly.

“Most.” She sits up slightly, enough for her hands to reach his still exposed hips. “Ardently.” Her open palm meets his ass, making him gasp. “Now, if you were most kind. Could you please get off so we can attempt to fix the table and the maps?”

“How romantic.” He scolds with a smile, fighting off the need to not simply take her again since the slap felt pleasantly sharp and hot. His hands soon work to fix his pants, standing up slowly to bring her up with him; enjoying how limp her posture seemed to be as she arranged her chest plate.

“ I know.” A numb answer, but she blinks a few times when her collar and golden head piece are being fixed for her; her eyes follow the movement of his hands, before absentmindedly staring at the prince.

“Do you promise not to go back to try and convince me of not seizing Fort Merceus like I requested?” He asks seriously, gently holding her face to enjoy her still dazed features.

“Dimitri…” She whispers.

“Please.” He kindly requests. “I want you to be safe. I don’t…wish to lose you.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, yet she ended up softly shaking her head. “Dimitri, I already accepted your plan. I won’t go back.” Her hands meet his own, offering gentle touches with her thumbs. “I promise.” A soft smile followed.

He sighs, his shoulders slightly hunching. Unable to resist that gesture, he smiles as well. “Thank you.”

Byleth silently makes him come closer, slowly wrapping her arms around him to exchange an embrace. “I’ll be here, with you.”

The prince holds her close as well, closing his eye to just enjoy her voice and warmth.

A whistle immediately makes Byleth take her distance, but Dimitri brings her against him again; wrapping his cloak completely around her.

“Did a tornado come over here? This place is a mess!” Sylvain laughed softly, not withering against Dimitri’s severe glare. “Don’t tell me Teach refused your plan still and you just decided to break this place apart? My, what a shame. I just lost 10 silver pieces against Felix.” He shrugs. “Here I thought you lovebirds would find another way to find a mutual understanding…” A sly tease.

“Not another word, Sylvain.” Dimitri warned.

Sylvain raised his eyebrows when Byleth’s face peeked out of the cloak, much to the dismay of Dimitri.

* * *


	3. Venery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farewells do not have to be forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \----
> 
>   
> [A scene in this story takes aspects of this lovely artwork](https://twitter.com/LL_eles/status/1174654100740292608?s=20)  
> \----  
> Warnings: Implied murder and suicide, blood, groping, psychological abuse.
> 
> \---

* * *

Enbarr was seized, the almost six-year war could be proclaimed ended.

As Edelgard offered one last exhale, Fódlan inhaled freedom.

While the march towards Garreg Mach was full of sorrow and grieving; amidst the flames and destruction, a few hopeful and merry chants would rally the different battalions across the fields; everyone looking forward to going back home.

Home.

Home was different for everybody.

As a silver crown fell over Dimitri’s head in Garreg Mach’s cathedral, Byleth knew where her home was.

Byleth’s rosy lips curved as she stared at the image in front of her: Crown King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, co-ruler of United Kingdom of Fódlan, and her dearly beloved. His body was wrapped in fine garments of white, gold and blue; leaving sorrowful gray and mournful black behind.

In a few blinks, a few sentences filled with pride, joy, and love; Byleth was engulfed in cleric and diplomatic duties to bring help to the ravished land and the broken people; duties she felt eager to accomplish knowing that her dearly beloved would be there to support.

While Byleth at first thought she would only need to deal with issues as an Archbishop a few months back; she joyfully met her duties as an expecting mother as well. While traversing through long roads and under harsh weather while pregnant; she couldn’t deny that it was comical how Seteth and Flayn would flock around her, making sure she was eating properly and sleeping enough hours.

Dimitri’s endless letters filled with amorous words and tender promises only made her look forward when she is finally able to go back to Fhirdiad, where both of them will patiently await the birth of their child.

Both of them lost their mothers, different scenarios but closely related to their birth. To deny that they weren’t nervous of the whole ordeal would be a lie; but Byleth had never turned away from a challenge, less when deep inside all she has ever wanted now was a warm home and a family of her own.

All her life she has raised her voice or a sword, would it be too selfish to raise a child in her arms instead? For these years of endless fighting and torment cease to finally dwell as an advisor and partner instead?

“Oof.” Byleth softly mouthed as she slowly stood up from a plush chair in her study, gently smiling as a hand rested on her small bump. “Your father tells me you will look like me, but I’m truly having my doubts.” Her tone was playful as she walked over to a small table, serving herself a cup of water and cutting a few pieces of bread. “By how hungry you make me, I’m sure you will be large. Just like him…”

She hums as jam and bread meet her lips, a fly smile resting on her features instead. Memories of her different encounters with Dimitri resurface, mostly tender tea times and soothing naps; soon enough, she finds herself reminiscing passionate nights and heated discussions instead.

“It truly isn’t a surprise I’m like this, your father is a very handsome lad.” She mumbled between munches, patting her bump again and slightly scoffing. “Too handsome, enduring and alluring...”

Her attention shifts to the fire in her furnace suddenly disappearing. She cocks an eyebrow, her gaze meeting the closed window before staring at the broken and weak wood again. Today was a chilly day, but the winds were calm and sunlight could still creep through endless gray clouds.

She doesn’t react fast enough when an assassin soon descends from the chimney. With the added weight and her reflexes less sharp due to peaceful times, her voice nor hand moves quick enough to cast a thunder or beckon for help.

Not quick enough to avoid a dagger meeting her chest. Blood spurted from her lips as she fell to the ground with a loud thud, feeling her breath weaken as her lungs were slowly being invaded by liquid.

 _An assassination. Why?_ Byleth questions, not turning back the gears of time just yet; wishing to at least retrieve any answers from this timeline.

“Pathetic. To think they hired me expecting a harsher fight.” The assassin muttered condescendingly as he kneeled beside her, enjoying how Byleth croaked when retrieving the dagger from her body. “Allowing yourself to be spoiled by that lowly beast was your undoing, Your Grace.”

“May the goddess forgive me,” He blurts with a smirk, “A shame, truly. Even in this state, you’re beautiful…” His hand passes through her hair, fingers following the length until they touch a swollen breast. “Do not worry, your remains will be kept pristine in this holy ground once I remove this pest from you.”

Her hazed gaze followed the way he rose the dagger anew, pointing to her stomach.

To her child.

“Our benevolent saint won’t be corrupted further.” He stated, but at the moment the sound of breaking glass was all that filled Byleth’s ears.

Her eyes closed as she felt her body being guided back in time, everything beginning anew as she had finished conversating with her baby. Her glare is stern towards the still ignited flames in her furnace.

With a flick of her fingers and a few words, the gentle fire soon turns harsh, invading not only the firebox but also the smoke shelf. Screams of agony soon fill her ears as a body soon falls into the ongoing flames; the man’s flesh soon melting while his bones begin to crack.

The doors of her study are soon opened by Ashe and Ingrid, alerted by the sound and the stench.

Time stops again, and she goes back.

She goes back a few times, before finally stopping when it had been enough; her anger was channeled incorrectly, Divine Pulse being abused like this could bring harm to her and therefore to the child.

Byleth decides to cast a weak Thunder when the man meets her chimney, his screams less harsh while his body remains unconscious instead of torched.

Ingrid and Ashe burst into her study again, sword and lance ready to react; both young knights stare in awe at the scene, but the younger man soon reacts to stand near the Archbishop.

“Professor, are you alright?” He questions as his arms hold Byleth gently, the woman soon resting against him as her breathing is a little shaky.

Ingrid would have chided him for the used title, but this wasn’t the focal point at the moment. “Your Grace!”

Byleth is soon guided to her plush chair again, both hands resting on her stomach as she quickly takes control of the situation. Leaving behind the sharp pain that her chest suffered, “Remain calm and quiet. This was an attempted assassination targeted to the Royal Family as a whole.” She explains, exhaling softly.

“Ingrid.” Her stern gaze matching Ingrid’s. “Rally your most trusted gambit, and seek for any stragglers that may be lurking around.” It was unlikely, taking note of the assassin’s previous words; but it was for the best. “Make sure Seteth is alright…” She remembers that the assassin entered through her chimney “He is in Sky Watch at the moment. If you find him, tell him to come here.”

Ingrid offers a bow. “Understood. Should I send a notice to Fhirdiad?”

“Please.” A weak reply. “Make sure it's urgent…I’m fearing for Dimitri’s safety as well.”

“Ashe.” Byleth nods at the younger knight, Ingrid already gone to accomplish her mission. “Please, stay with me and help me inspect that man’s body. He may be carrying important information.”

Soft greens go determined, Ashe offering a nod as he scans the surrounding area before hunching over the still unconscious man. Deft fingers quickly retrieving the different daggers across the body; memories of Lonato’s body being searched like this resurface, but he would push the thoughts away.

“Professor…” He gently beckons as he finds a small scroll and a few vials as well. Ashe soon goes back to Byleth, offering the items before getting his bow ready; a sturdy arrow pointing towards the assassin now.

Byleth’s lips immediately twist as she recognizes the wax seal, breaking it off with one of the multiple daggers resting on her lap now.

_Do not harm Her Grace’s neck or features, sculptors and artists alike must have a pristine look of her last expression as death embraces her; on that call, make sure to remove that wrench from her stomach so when her body is displayed towards the faithful, she still appears as a virgin._

_Do not forget to retrieve some of her blood, and bring her wretched devil spew with you._

_We need to torch it in the Valley of Torment if we hope to find salvation from the goddess just yet._

_Send these words back with the vial, only then will my men allow you entrance into the Lion’s Fang to retrieve your precious jewels._

_I shouldn’t be even paying you. You well know this is for the salvation of us all._

“Jewels.” Byleth stated as she found the energy to stand up again, glaring at the assassin next as her eyes could no longer stand the contents of the scroll. “You were willing to exchange Fódlan’s future for mere jewels. How pathetic.”

“Your Grace?” Ashe questions meekly.

“I’m sorry, Ashe.” She shakes her head softly. “It just seems that not all lords rallied with us truly when Arianrhod was seized.” A quick explanation, and nothing more for now.

The Lion’s Fang is located near territory that once belonged to the Rowe family. The seal’s color and stamp had a close resemblance to a design Empire Loyalists are using.

Seems war knocks her doors yet again, even more personal this time.

* * *

The Archbishop’s private chambers were soon moved to an outcast tower. Unsurprisingly, the order came directly from Fódlan’s distraught king; Byleth couldn’t be alone, no matter the circumstances; while more private events like restroom stops and bath hours were kept to a minimum.

Dimitri had sent on his invoice that he would be leaving Fhirdiad to be with his wife. The king would personally escort his wife back to their castle; where they would greet the birth of their child while preparing political discourses to showcase how Byleth could continue her duties in a Cathedral near castle town.

“There are only two reasons why you are able to stand here: Dimitri’s benevolence.” Byleth stated calmly, gaze stern against eyes that could match her own. “And the connection we have; a connection you forced us to have…” She bitterly corrected.

Byleth’s attempted assassination brought much attention to her, friends and older students alike would visit much to the protest of Seteth and Ingrid. However, while Annette’s and Mercedes’s company was welcomed, she couldn’t say the same for the woman in front of her.

“Rhea. Why are you here?” Byleth questioned as she held the arms of her chair a little tighter, forced the banister to crack more as her back rested against it. 

“You already know why.” Rhea’s features were serene as she spoke, her hands resting over her lap as she sat across the armchair from Byleth’s“You can no longer be here in Garreg Mach; nor stay as the Archbishop.”

“Why the sudden change of thought? You were the one who handed this position to me when I barely understood how the church worked; your hands are responsible of this being on my head.” Byleth responded as she gently gestured to her golden headpiece. “Now that I know and understand the church’s trail of thought, you wish for me to step down? Curious.” 

She was being rather cynical and impolite, but her stale heart demanded no otherwise. “I fought your war, rallied the church and brought you back home. Do you now deem me unworthy of this position? Matters not.” 

“No, child.” Rhea finally interrupted, gently closing her eyes. “Please, hear what I need to say.”

There was a short silence, but Byleth’s gaze fell to the window outside; longingly staring at the clear blue sky. She moved a hand to her stomach, caressing it slowly as her breathing relaxed for a moment. “My father once said you were frightening...and it’s true. Even now, my skin crawls and my stomach feels uptight.” A calm statement, before turning to see the older woman.

“If you are here, it can only mean there are more secrets I don’t know about; and that frightens me, Rhea.” Byleth sighed, “Speak.” She demanded.

Rhea was unable to hide the hurt from her features, but her heart felt calm at seeing that Byleth had evolved into a stern leader; her brusque manners still mimicking those of Jeralt, which soon made her smile. “How many months?” Her eyes rested on Byleth’s stomach.

The question caught Byleth off guard, but she ended up smiling as well; amused of how shameless the question was. “Seven.”

“You look exactly just like your mother when she was expecting you…” Rhea sighs, and she notices how Byleth’s features go soft. “I come bearing no more secrets, child. Only truths.” Her head bows “I know that it’s my fault that your fate has been so cruel to you...and that’s why I am here; to beg you to leave,and save that child from the same fate.”

“You have already suffered a taste of what’s coming towards you,” Rhea continues, following the way Byleth’s eyebrows furrow. “Assassination plots will soon become a common thing. Your child carries not only the blood of the progenitor god, but also from one of the 10 Elites.”

“Assassination plots have always existed in every new rise of government.” Byleth interrupts her, “United Kingdom of Fódlan will not surrender to those who wish to bring chaos and suffering to the world anew; people rallied in the war, they will do so once again to maintain our peace.” A pause. “Nothing assures that my child will possess a crest.”

“and those who oppose you and King Dimitri will rally as well.” Rhea offers a rebuttal, “Just like they are doing now.” A short inhale “Byleth, Sothis’s blood and blessing courses through your body...there is no possibility for your child to not bear a crest; it’s quite possible that your blood infuses a minor crest and makes it evolve into a major one.”

Byleth looks away from her, her chest feeling tighter by the second as a heavy truth is thrown at her.

“Catherine has informed me of what Margrave Gautier and King Blaiddyd plan to do...a political and educational reform that no longer needs the usage of crests and instead demands a voting system and grade exam; a splendid yet naive idea, but it will meet a lot of closed doors that will only be forced open by a few lords’ pressure.”

Rhea’s eyes seem to ignite as she observes Byleth’s posture becoming less poise and strong, “Do you really believe people will follow and obey the king’s reign without skepticism if the royal family is full of children bestow with powerful crests?” She slowly stands up, walking around Byleth to then stand behind her. “Assassination ploys will then evolve to whole communities being hostages; the only acceptable trade being you and your family, seeking to exploit your blood.”

Byleth’s eyelids lower as she starts to frown, her lips going flat as Rhea’s words and that assassin’s note start pounding into her psyche. “Before none of that happens, those wishing to revolt would be brought to justice.” She counters.

“Justice?” Rhea whispers, her words turning almost into venom that slowly poisons Byleth’s unwavering determination. “Who would bring them to court? Who would desire to follow any law made under Dimitri’s reign if his queen is none other than Byleth Eisner, master of the Creator’s Sword and with more power than Saint Seiros.” 

Rhea rests a hand on Byleth’s shoulder, so she would turn to see her. “My child, I know the land of man is pleasant and pleasurable, but it’s also treacherous and full of greed.” Her thumb gently caresses her collarbone, “You are no mere mortal, and the world will know that when your child is born.” Her tone was soft, a grievous contrast to her words.

Byleth’s eyes began to sting, tears soon flowed down her somber features as Rhea continued.

“You are not safe, and neither will he.” Rhea’s words make Byleth start to gently sob. “King Dimitri will soon be deemed unworthy of having you; countless men will seek to end his life and all of his offspring in exchange of having you.” She moves her hands to clear away her tears. “None of that has to happen however, you can leave everything behind...and come with me.”

Rhea’s smile is gentle, but there is certain darkness lingering in her eyes. “We can wander the world together, away from conflict as we allow mankind to settle into their new freedom. You can be whoever you wish to be, and that goes as well for your child.” 

Byleth knew consequences needed to be met someday.

“Allow them to live, my child.” Rhea whispers. “If you truly love Fódlan and King Dimitri...you must let them go.”

There was once a time Byleth thought of leaving everything behind, but now that she is forced to do so; there is nothing but heartache. She knew Rhea’s words were true.

Still, to leave her job that she has come to feel proud of; to leave behind her friends and comrades she cherishes so dearly.

To leave behind her beloved who she adores and loves so ardently and passionately, who she promised to ever remain by his side.

For her child to never meet their loyal and tender father.

She never expected for fate to ask such a cruel trade in exchange for letting everyone breathe.

* * *

Dimitri wished to have arrived sooner to Garreg Mach; something in his heart told him that his horse had to run faster, that he had to demand everyone to sleep less; and yet, he knew such pressures to the body would not be approved by his beloved.

However, his beloved was now gone.

Nothing but a few goodbye letters and her emerald ring remained over a vanity; the last remains of Byleth now rested in his cold hands.

  
_To my dearest,_

_I have never been good with farewells._

_I have no clue how to say goodbye, and deep in my stale heart I know it’s because I don’t wish to leave._

_Even now, all I long for are your warm hands and tender words; your strong arms that have kept me safe throughout the time we have spent together._

_Know that I will always miss you, and shall always cherish and love you until my last breath._

_To stay with you would condemn you to a sure death; to lead Fódlan alongside you, our friends and our people would bring nothing but chaos._

_You once taught me how to be a professor, guided me kindly to be a friend and passionately lead me to be a lover. I am forever grateful of meeting you and feel so fortunate of the time we have spent together._

_However, I cannot allow myself to be selfish, the world has suffered enough. My resolution has failed, and so I must be sacrificed in order for all of you to live._

_I beg of you to at least allow me to keep our child; to have something of you with me, always._

_Please, do not forsake us in your mind; let go of us. I beg you to forget and move on; to not hold down to our victories and defeats, to our memories and actions._

_Proclaim that The Archbishop has fallen; echo that Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd has been defeated._

_That the Queen of United Fódlan no longer breathes._

_I...I’m sorry, my love. I know I promised to be by your side always, but your life is worth more than all the vows in the world to me._

_Forever yours, Byleth._

  
  


Dimitri clenched the letter meant for him, all mental locks barely staying locked as he exhaled. Miraculously, he folded the letter neatly before putting it inside his cloak; fighting off tears as gruesome anger was all that corroded in his body.

Byleth promised to never leave, and yet she did. It was evident that such a decision was not her own, but it still hurt him. Yes, it pained him; it enraged him that someone dared to infiltrate her precious heart and mind to only poison it.

The image of her crossing roads and staying in who knows where while carrying their child, was slowly breaking him. 

The blown-out candle of her room felt warm still, which meant she couldn’t have wandered far just yet; neither her treacherous companion.

“Seteth, who visited her last?” Dimitri adamantly demanded as the advisor stood behind him; Ashe and Ingrid following closely as the king was already going down the long stairway of the tower; wild wickedness lingering in his single blue. 

“I nor her knights can give you such information, Lady Byleth instructed us to keep her visitors anonymous.” Seteth calmly answered, but he was forced to gasp and roughly choke on nothing as he was soon sent against the wall; his body lifted from the stairs as Dimitri held him by his neck with a hand.

“Your Majesty!” Ashe beckoned at him, his voice was surprised and slightly afraid; the torches around the walls making everyone not be caught in total darkness.

“Stand back.” Dimitri rasped the order, determinately staring at the advisor with a scornful glare. “My wife and child are out there, exposed to the wildness of the land and to the danger of an assassin having an easier time to end their lives.” His hold became stronger, making Seteth gasp as the silver part of his gauntlet was cold and sharp. “And you still have the insolence of proclaiming your silent oath to her?!” 

The king scoffs as he frees Seteth, still glaring as the man breathes again; his ears catch the faintest of wheezes.

“We still don’t have enough information, it would be reckless to follow assumptions.”Seteth argues as he holds his neck, glaring gently in return. “I understand your worry and anger, but we cannot be careless. One wrong step, and we may put Byleth in peril.”

“Don’t you dare address her so casually…” Dimitri warns. “Not when you failed to keep her unharmed twice now...” He clenched his teeth “If it weren’t for Byleth’s unyielding trust for you, I would have you behind bars right now accused of treason.”

“Dimitri…” Ingrid intercepts this time, leaving titles behind to make the king relax. “We are all worried, but bickering and assuming the worst of each other will only make the search worse.” Her eyebrows furrow, “Please, let us meet with Dedue and the rest to analyze all our options.”

“Then tell me who visited her last,” Dimitri glares at Ingrid next, slightly heaving. “Or will you be quiet as well?”

There is silence, and Dimitri’s hands slowly form into fists.

“Lady Rhea.” Ashe finally speaks, glaring at their shadows; ignoring Ingrid’s and Seteth’s stare. “Lady Rhea and Sir Catherine came to visit, but only Lady Rhea entered her room.” He states, staring at Dimitri. “They both shared a meal in the dining hall, and when I planned to escort them back to this tower; Lady Byleth dismissed me.”

Ashe offers a deep reverence. “I am sorry, your Majesty. Had I followed Her Grace, I…”

“That’s enough.” Dimitri softly commands, his lips completely flat. “Thank you, Ashe.” He continues down the steps, feeling the younger knight steadily following him as Ingrid and Seteth stay behind. “We will keep this between our trusted ranks; all of Fódlan would go into chaos if the Archbishop is declared missing, more if that woman is to blame.”

“Are you suggesting we lie to the people?” Ashe asks incredulously.

“No, we are keeping information concealed until we know more.” Dimitri states, voice deep while his words don’t waver. “Surely the faithful can withstand secrecy for a moment longer until we find a trace of Her Grace.” A pause. “I will personally lead this investigation.”

It was personal.

Dimitri allowed for Rhea to find redemption and solace in peace, and she repaid him with a dagger across his heart.

“You can count on me, Your Majesty. I won’t fail you twice.” Ashe boldly stated, glaring ahead. “Sir Catherine took my brother and father away, I won’t allow her to take away our professor too. Even if she is just following Lady Rhea’s orders.”

Dimitri’s gaze softened, even if his jaw still felt tight. “Thank you…”

Ah, that title. It brought back memories to the king.

His professor…

His beloved light.

He would make sure to bring Byleth back home, and not even heaven’s or hell’s interception would stop him.

* * *

It would be simple. To just travel towards Fhirdiad or even Garreg Mach.

The longer Byleth stared into the gentle blues of her child, the more she wished to go back towards Dimitri. Her lips curved as her son yawned before latching to her nipple again; small hands kneading gently her breast.

Byleth found it ironic that Rhea was the one to help her deliver the child, her son. While she didn’t give birth in Garreg Mach’s cathedral, it was still a little amusing that she found relief and assistance in one of the smaller churches set by her around Gloucester territory.

In just a few days, she could cross the mountains and reach Charon territory; in a few blinks, her feet would guide her to Blaiddyd territory.

Ah, just thinking about his last name made her stale heart weep.

No, It was too late.

She made a choice, she has to withstand it. Dimitri’s heart had been broken by her so many times; to return without the promise of staying definitely would be cruel.

Perhaps she wouldn’t be wanted anymore. Would the Savior King become the Tempest once more at the sight of her and his bastard child?

No, Dimitri was too benevolent. Too kind. He would surely open his arms and greet them with all the love and attention of the world; the same care he now gives to his people.

“You need to leave.” One day, Catherine warned her. “Lady Rhea is slipping...it’s no longer safe for you here.”

In that moment, Byleth was slightly confused by her words; still tired as she gave birth only a few days ago. “What are you saying?”

“Take my horse, and don’t look back.” Catherine gives her no more details as her eyes fall over a sleeping Rhea; the older woman’s features looking rather too stiff to be simply sleeping. “The monks are already asking questions about you; it won’t be long before someone tracks you down.”

“Dimitri is searching for you.” Catherine spoke as she walked to Rhea, readjusting the woman over the simple bed offered by the faithful. “I overheard that from a drunktard spy nearly passing out in an alley. It won’t be long before he finds You—Us ” She chortles mournfully. “And damn it all if he doesn’t pierce my gut with Areadbhar…” A crude joke. 

The thought of Dimitri finding her was pleasant for a moment, but Byleth soon realizes maybe Areadbhar would meet her gut too. “Catherine?” Byleth questions.

“Get out of here. We both know your body has healed enough, and your spirit is still that of a mercenary; you will survive.” Catherine grasps a small vial in her hand, already half empty. “There was a time where I used to feel jealous of the attention Lady Rhea gave you; but now, I can only pity you.”

“There’s one last duty I must keep, Byleth. I can’t go with you.” Catherine explains, voice soon tuning off. 

Jeralt taught Byleth to scram whenever an area reeked of decay.

Despite there was a newborn in the room, the air felt surrounded with death.

Byleth didn’t turn back that night, even if carrying her child while riding a horse was painful and complicated; she didn’t dare to face somewhere else but forward.

The thought that Jeralt probably did these same actions once upon a time brought her comfort. 

Her father would probably chide her for leaving in the first place.

No, guilt won’t make her go back. She needs to be stronger than that; she must push her emotions away again.

* * *

  
  


She has been gone for more than four months, and yet the world seems to continue at a regular pace; no sign of revolts due that the Archbishop is missing from her spot. The pain of being away seems to diminish if ever so slightly at the thought of Seteth and Flayn running around the monastery, trying to keep things together in her absence.

Her thoughts go back to Dimitri, she could almost perceive the scent of his clothes as he probably rests over endless piles of parchment; if she tried hard enough, maybe a small taste of his sweat would linger on her lips as she pressed them on his forehead.

Ah, another thought invades her. Dimitri, riding sternly on his stallion as he beckons small gambits to search for her while he spends his time dwelling within the tall stalls of meat and fruit; silently observing everything while pretending that his visit is due to make a stronger connection with the people.

Byleth needs to stop thinking about him, but the child in her arms makes that task impossible.

“You surely are a big eater, just like me…”Byleth gently whispers as she holds her son close,pulling on the small hat that protects thin strands of golden hair. “You force your mother to breastfeed almost none stop.” A gentle chide as she covers them more with a brown cloak, a hood with fluffy fur around the edges keeping teal hair safe. 

After leaving Catherine and Rhea behind, she found her next destination to be Daphnel territory; she could cross the river and move upward, eventually meeting the sea where the next stop wasn’t important.

She had to leave Fódlan , it was the only way. Her face wasn’t known all around yet, but surely her hair and features would make questions arise if she stays in this land any longer. She could sell her horse and whatever valuables that were on her still; while the thought is laughable, a mercenary’s life seemed to bring comfort.

Byleth readjusts her weight as she sits on a few barrels, taking shelter from the sun using a shabby stall that had no produce showcased yet. “You’re going to make us miss the boat if you don’t hurry, Artem.”

Yes, Artem Eisner. Healthy, sound and wholesome. His son came into the world with a cry that could be compared to a lion’s roar; no crest manifesting but that could change at any given moment as he grows older.

Gentle droplets of rain soon start to fall. She huffs, “Well, isn’t this amusing. Seems fate wishes you to have a pleasant breakfast…” She mutters with a smile; there was no way a boat would leave now. 

She wonders, was Sothis silently chiding her and telling her not to leave?

Nonsense, Sothis has been gone for a long time.

The sound of horses neighing and whining made her attention shift as she covered her breast, Artem already resting softly on her shoulder. Between giving her son a few pats on his small back so he would burp, her gaze centered in the banners held by a few knights and the insignias displayed on the horse’s pins.

She recognized the image of a proud knight riding a griffin.

“Scout ahead! Do not disturb the merchants and fishermen!”

She recognized Dimitri’s stern voice. On instinct, she brought Artem into her cloak again; pulling a little harder on her hood; while using a Divine Pulse was the wisest choice, she found it impossible when he came into view.

Her breathing hitched at the sight of the familiar black armor, her skin felt like crawling as she recognized those heavy bags under his eye and how unkempt long blond locks rested upon his shoulders and face; how Areadbhar rested over his back while the sharp edge of the weapon remained sealed by a knitted holster.

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.

He was here.

She would have laughed at the irony of how his tracking skills seemed to mimic hers, but she was too busy trying not to lose her calm.

Byleth withheld the need to exhale his name, to inhale a shriek. Her gaze fell to the man that stood beside the king; oh, the ever kind and loyal Dedue.

The ever sharp and aware of his surroundings Dedue. His verdant gaze met her own, and the man quickly recognized her features despite that her skin was murky and stained by the slum’s dirt.

Byleth allowed for Dedue to alert Dimitri, she immersed on the way Dimitri’s features remained stern and almost dissipated; for a few instances, her body wished to stay in the present when his lone blue became soft and life seemed to mingle in his stare; how his pale skin manages to flush pink.

She closed her eyes, and heard glass breaking.

That would have to be enough, in a few gasps, she was back to the point where Artem was barely going to latch to her breast.

Her baby boy would have to eat later.

Time and space felt unimportant as she tried to hide from the king’s presence; a task not easily done when the fishing port is suddenly invaded by Kingdom and Church knights alike; Divine Pulse being used more than once when she would be recognized as The Archbishop or had the unsavory pleasure of meeting with old comrades when they beckoned _Professor!_

Still, there was a word that always made her chest ache.

 _Beloved!_ Dimitri once roared as she had the dismay of bumping against him when she was trying to run away from Sylvain.

Another Divine Pulse, but she knows there aren’t many left.

Artem would constantly cry as Byleth tried her best to reach her horse before meeting with Ingrid, he would gently wail whenever Byleth hid in a cutoff or the entrance of an inn before being recognized by Ashe or Mercedes.

There was a moment where Byleth tried immersing between the slightly crowded docking area, gently getting soaked when the rain caught up to her; there was no path nor corner of town that was not being investigated, her best bet was to hide in a used boat and try to calm Artem.

However, the more she walked, the fewer people would get on her way; unknown to her, at that time Dimitri had found her, silently following her as he took the time to observe her next movements.

“Please, just wait a little longer.” Byleth softly begged to her child, sweetly shushing him as she attempted to undo a knot that kept a boat safely secured on dock. “As we go downstream, I will feed you and sing you a lullaby.”

“I doubt you can do such things while trying to stay afloat.”

She froze, her hand stopping from undoing the knot as her ears buzzed; recognizing Dimitri’s voice yet again. 

How?

How was he and the others finding her every single time? The soft shower soon turned into pounding droplets, Artem’s cries almost matching the power of the rain. She refuses to turn this time; slowly mustering up the energy to go back.

She can’t, Divine Pulse wouldn’t beckon to her demand.

“Thirteen,” Dimitri states as his words rumble heavy on his throat, exhaling as his steps become slower while coming closer to Byleth. “Thirteen times you tried to escape.”

Byleth feels her legs quivering, blankly staring ahead as she can no longer run away. She holds her child a little closer, trying to keep him warm and protected; his cries calming if only for a moment.

So, Dimitri could detect whenever Divine Pulse was used now. It shouldn’t surprise her, after so many moments they shared; it was only a matter of time before the king’s body would reminiscence the sensation of thoughts and flesh being pulled from one timeline to the other.

“Professor…” His voice softens for a moment, all hope lost and at the same time not. “Beloved…” Nurture reflects on the pet name, despite he was frowning. “Why are you running?”

Byleth turns around, her face stoic despite she felt her heart breaking at the sight of seeing him caught in the rain again; despair and confusion resting on his features once more. Hesitance and repent eventually showcase on her features, not that it mattered now.

“Dimitri…” A whisper.

“Answer me.” He softly demands, eyebrows soon furrowing. The king desperately needed to reach her; touch her even, but his soul demanded answers too.

“You already know why!” Her expression became distraught. “There is no place for someone like me here, someone like us.” She included her infant,”Nothing but pain and chaos would forsaken you and all of Fódlan if we remained by your side.”

“Is that what that vile woman made you believe?” He questioned as he came closer, his presence soon looming over hers as he reaches out to hold her head; cold gauntlets soon pushing away her hood; greedily taking in all her sharp features, fully immersing on how dirt began to be washed away from her skin. “Why would you believe someone like her?”

“Please, don’t…” She begged, trying to look away as his hands were surprisingly warm; like his stare. “The noble king of United Fódlan doesn’t belong here; not with me.”

Her exhale is shaky since Dimitri doesn’t allow her to look elsewhere, “Our union; the blood that courses through me, what I am; can’t you see that your people would question and eventually revolt when the world finds out who I am?”

“Your people love you.” He almost hissed the words, fighting every nerve in his body to not simply embrace her; protect her body from the sky’s cold weeping. “ _Our_ people love you. _Our_ friends love you.” He paused. “ _I_ love you _._ ” He ardently states. “You are needed and loved by many, Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd.” It felt so refreshing to beckon such precious name, “You, who fought through a harsh war and pierced through the darkness of hopelessness to bring forth dreams anew.”

“You, the owner of the Creator’s sword and proud leader of the Church of Seiros, deserve to dwell in the land that is being restored and saved thanks to you.” A pause as he feels his view blurring, “You, the regent Queen of United Fódlan and the mother of _our_ child, deserves to come home.”

His bottom lip trembles, "Why won't you love me..." A whimper as his tone falters, "enough to stay with me?"

Her throat feels tight, but she had to speak. "I adore you; more than life itself." She trembled, "I love you."

Byleth finally manages to look away when his hands release her, but his arms and cloak are soon keeping her whole body safe; his exhilarated heart and heavenly warmth clouding all sensation. 

“Then please, Byleth. Don’t leave me again; stay with me.” He begs as he holds her head close, avoiding to crush her and their child. “Please, come home with me. We have suffered enough.”

She starts to sob, her wails soon matching Artem’s; unable to hold back any longer as her body gives in to his voice and words; to his scent and presence.

Home.

She wanted to go home.

“We have suffered enough,” Dimitri repeated, “We have suffered enough.” Gentler every single time. 

Sensations soon blurred, while their tears and the rain seemed to ease both their souls. There was a moment where they could look at each other again, for their bodies to take some distance so Artem could come into view as well.

Dimitri stared at his son for the first time, and never thought he could fall in love with someone at a moment’s notice. The child stared at him with swollen eyes and red cheeks, his wailing no longer present as curious youthful blues stared into a tired and bitter one.

“How can someone who creates something so docile, innocent and precious not belong in this world…?” He questioned out of breath, staring at his wife with a smile that could be considered awkward and improper. 

Byleth sniffs, slowly losing composure as well as she allows a smile to escape. “I—I have no clue...”

They share a short laugh and chaste kiss, exhaling against each other for the briefest of moments; in a few blinks,the king convinced her to be carried in his arms, taking them away from the rain to immerse themselves in the warmth of an inn’s fire and the relieved chatter from their loved ones.

Byleth still felt a little hesitant, she felt guilt and sorrow whisper behind an ear while Dimitri kept her in his arms ; resting in a bed together. The king mesmerized at the sight of his wife feeding their child, nothing but joy and gratitude filling his heart.

Her gaze falls to where a silver ring rests in its rightful place. She smiles when Dimitri holds her hand, their rings glinting in unison.

She would push the thoughts away, she wouldn’t listen to the murking words and instead listen to his; smiling and never faltering against the consequences of today and probably tomorrow’s.

They could face them, together this time.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---  
> [My cardd](https://blaiddydqueso.carrd.co/)  
> \---  
> Apologies if tags, grammar, and notes are constantly updated, there are kind people who give me feedback on certain things so I try to fix it right away. I'm sorry for those first readers who get to see this shit show so raw, you are truly the heroes of this community💕  
> \----  
> This story explores the characters from 3H. I apologize if anyone is offended with this interpretation.


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